Josefina’s Sin by Claudia H. Long

Author:Claudia H. Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Paperback

SIXTEEN

ADVENT WAS LITTLE MORE than a week away. The atmosphere at the castle was changing subtly with the shortening of the days. The days themselves were cool and bright. The fields had been harvested, the cattle slaughtered or driven to market. The castle followed the same agricultural rhythms our hacienda did, and the same release and turning to indoor pursuits was evident here as at home. The difference was, those inside the castle had done none of the work, and yet were set to reap the rewards of the cessation of labor for the winter. Sconces were lit earlier to dispel the darkness of the early evenings, and conclaves of chattering women planned the revelry of the season to come. For there were not only the big events, balls and dinners, to plan, but invitations to angle for, and dresses to be commissioned as well.

I was reading quietly in the library when the pink and white menina I had met shortly after my arrival came in with a note. She didn’t meet my eyes, and I felt her embarrassment as a sharp stab. I knew then that I had been unable to shield her from the Marqués with my advice, and I was sorry that I had done nothing more, once I had replied to the Marqués’ message, to ensure her maidenly safety. In fact, I had thought of her not a moment since then, and had mercifully not seen the Marqués since my arrival. I took the note and thanked her. “Must you wait for an answer?” I asked. She nodded dumbly, still flushed, with her eyes cast down. How serious had his depredations been?

I opened the note. The Marqués’ scrawl, recognizable instantly, made me want to crumble the note and toss it, but its message was far more chilling.

My lovely, wanton temptress:

Isolating yourself in the nuns’ quarters and hiding in the library do nothing to shield you from my eyes. I will have you, you know, when you least expect me. For now, do my friends and me the honor of attending us at our evening repast tonight, and perhaps bring one of your new verses to entertain us. If you will not amuse me now by lifting your skirts, you will amuse us all with your newfound talent in poesy.

Yours,

M.

The menina was watching me from under her lowered lids.

“I have no answer,” I said harshly. She looked up, pitiful. “Go!” I said, and looked back down at my book. My heart knew I should try once more to save the girl, but my mind acknowledged that she would never be strong enough to heed my counsel. I would not answer this despicable note just to preserve her. After a long moment, she crept away.

I refused to think about it. I would not be dragged into the mire of the Court’s social ugliness. I had come to study. I repeated this to myself, over and over, until it drowned out both my conscience and my reading. The morning was ruined, and I returned to the nuns’ quarters.

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